Swallow and Raven
by more-than-words
Summary: Two spies meet in a bar...
1. Chapter 1

About 18 million years ago now, I promised msec-in-aeternum over on Tumblr some CIA-lingo texting fic. I then spent far too long reading about spy lingo and somehow, the initial prompt has morphed into this weird thing. I hope it's okay! Any thoughts/comments welcome, even if it is just 'literally what is this' lol...

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 **Swallow:** a female agent employed to seduce people for intelligence purposes.

 **Raven:** the male equivalent.

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 **Swallow and Raven**

The man sat secluded at the end of the bar nursing a glass of whisky, looking down into the glass as he rolled it in his hand to watch the slide of ice cubes through dark liquid amber. The ice chinked against the side of the glass, audible to him even above the babble of strangers' conversations going on all around.

He was aware of every noise, every movement in the place. He was trained for it, and tonight his senses were particularly on edge as he waited for the arrival of his expected company.

So it wasn't a surprise when a minute later he felt the shift. He looked up from his glass at the change in the air and watched in the mirror behind the bar as the front door of the restaurant opened, letting in a slight draught of chilled night air before the space was filled by a couple of burly guys in suits. He recognised them right away.

The advance guard had arrived.

The man turned back to his drink, taking a long sip and enjoying the feel of the cool liquid as it slid down his throat, the chill contrasting with the warm burn of the flavour of the whisky. Too much ice in the glass. The drink tasted a little weak but he figured that was a good thing; there was no doubt he needed his wits about him tonight.

He was aware of more movement behind him, of a minor commotion near the door as the maître d' hurried to greet the guest who had just walked inside. He heard high heels striking the marble floor, the sound coming towards him.

A final mouthful of whisky, the experience overwhelmed by the perfume that now filled his nostrils, colouring the taste as he swallowed.

He looked up to find a beautiful woman standing at his side. He took a second just to drink her in. Tall and slender. Blonde hair that waved softly around her face. Blue eyes that cut like crystal but yet drew him in with the temptation to drown in their depths. A face that was easy to stare at. She wore a black dress that managed to be both demure and an invitation to sin, and heels so high they could be classed as a weapon. Two more suits – one man and one woman – took up residence a little way back, watching both the woman and the room; the advance guard were stationed at various doors throughout the establishment.

So ostentatious, yet in this restaurant they were paid little attention. Hiding in plain sight.

"You're late," he said in lieu of a proper greeting.

The woman lifted one shoulder in a shrug that may have been an apology. "Business ran long."

He reached out one hand to brush her hair back over her shoulder. "You weren't getting ready to meet me?" He liked knowing that she had dressed up to meet him. It warmed him better than the whisky and made his ego purr.

She shivered as his ice-chilled fingers brushed her skin. "That, too." She gave him a smile that told him she could reduce him to a puddle in a matter of seconds if she so chose, and then she turned a brighter, flashier version of that smile on the bartender, gesturing to his empty glass in a silent request for fresh drinks.

Then she leaned forwards against the bar, giving him a wonderful view of her profile, and they said nothing else until the whisky dutifully appeared in front of them thirty seconds later.

She caught his eye in the mirror. "So, what do you have for me?"

He was so caught up in the beautiful lines of her face that it took him a moment to respond. "Hmm?"

"You invited me here tonight. I assume it's because you have something for me." She turned her face away from the mirror and leaned forward a little so no one would be able to read her lips or hear her when she said, "Some intelligence?"

Oh, so that was how she wanted to play it, was it? Skirting the line of danger in a public place. Sure, he could go along with that. He liked a little thrill from time to time, too. Especially when the thrill had just hopped up onto a barstool to face him and crossed legs so long they pressed against his thigh as he sat still facing the bar. He placed his hand on her knee over her dress and stroked his thumb against the silky fabric. "I have… a dossier."

There was a pause while she picked up her drink and took a sip. "A dossier, hmm?"

"Yeah." His thumb was still making little circles against her knee.

She stilled his hand with her fingers around his wrist. "And what's in this dossier?"

He smiled enigmatically. "Information."

"Secrets?"

He considered his response. "More like… confirmation."

The woman pouted, over-dramatic disappointment on her face. "You invite me down here… I come all the way here after work because you asked me to… I dress up for you… and you have nothing new for me?" She shook her head. "I can't take that back me with me. Not for this effort. You know the cost for me to be here. I need something new."

She pushed her glass towards him and made as though she was going to stand to leave.

He caught her wrist before she could, feeling the gentle beat of her pulse against his palm. Her skin was smooth and soft and he thought that he wanted to lose himself in her tonight. Damn, she was such an enigma, such a contradiction. The certainty and confidence in her voice was in direct contrast to the softness of her skin, her eyes at once ice and fire, her body leaning towards him even as her words drew her away. He was smitten. But there was still a game to be played. "It's confirmation of things that I think you'll like."

"Things of value?"

"Of the highest value."

Features softening, she looked like she was considering his words. Finally she nodded and reached over to pull her glass back towards her, long fingers wrapping around the crystal, cold condensation sliding over her skin.

He wanted her skin sliding over his. He drank some whisky to provide a cover for the flush he could feel building on his face.

Settling back into her seat, she regarded him closely like she knew exactly how he was feeling – and she liked it. "Was it difficult for you to come here tonight? Were you spotted?"

"I was careful," he answered. He glanced behind her at her security personnel. "I think it's safe to say you have been slightly less clandestine than me."

"You know the situation I'm dealing with."

He nodded. "I do." He trailed his hand down her arm. "I trust there have been no incidents of concern recently?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary." She leaned towards him until she was close enough that her face filled his vision and her scent was all he could smell. "Now, about this dossier."

Ah, yes, the dossier. "What is it worth to you?"

A frown appeared between her eyes. "What is it worth?"

"Yes. Intelligence like this doesn't come free."

"You just told me it contains nothing new. I'm not paying for information I already possess. And I certainly can't put a price on something I haven't even seen." She kept her voice quiet but her tone spoke volumes. She sounded adamant, like she was standing her ground. Like she thought he was a fool for even suggesting that she wouldn't.

He smiled. He loved that fire. "I already told you. It contains significant value. And I guarantee it will be of personal interest to you."

She shook her head. _Not good enough_ , said the look in her eyes.

Okay. He was a man of compromise. "It's cheap. A token sum. A gesture of goodwill, if you like."

She sighed and played along. "How cheap is cheap?"

His smile grew a little. "One kiss."

Her eyes widened at his answer, her cool composure faltering slightly for the first time since she had entered the restaurant. "Uh… one –"

"One kiss." He nodded to punctuate the point and reached into one of his pockets to slide out the corner of the envelope he had brought for her so she could see that the dossier was real. "No money changes hands. No record or knowledge except for between the two of us."

And the people in the restaurant, but they hardly mattered. This was a discreet place.

"You're playing with the rules tonight."

"And you aren't?" he challenged, raising an eyebrow to punctuate his point. He let that one sit for a few seconds and then he tried again, relaxing his face into the crooked smile that he knew would get to her and letting a little of his lust enter his voice. "And you want this dossier. So. Do you accept the price?"

She kept her face turned towards him but her eyes looked away for a minute as she thought, scanning her gaze over the people in the restaurant to check that they weren't being observed. Satisfied, she turned back to him. "I accept."

"You do?"

"One kiss. You give me the dossier."

"That's the deal," he agreed.

And he wasn't about to waste any time in getting to the payment. Turning on his barstool, he slid one hand into thick blonde hair and leaned forward to press his lips against hers. Her mouth was cool from the ice in the whisky, the contrast with his hot skin setting his nerve endings tingling. She took control of the kiss then before he could do it himself, her hand cupping his face and her thumb at his jaw to encourage him to angle his head towards her. He opened his mouth at the gentle pressure and her tongue slipped past his lips to brush against his own.

Warmth flooded through him and he was aware that his breathing was not entirely steady.

Funny how he was the one who had put a price on their exchange and yet he also seemed to be the one who was paying it. He wished they were somewhere more private so they could get further into a discussion about properly fulfilling payments in return for goods and services. Then again, he was used to this woman getting the upper hand in so many of his interactions with her and he'd be lying if he said he didn't find it a turn on. Besides, she was so damn riveting he didn't care that she held his heart in her hand.

She pulled away after a long minute, keeping her face close to his so he could feel her hot breath against his cheek and see the dilation of her pupils along with the dare in her eyes. "So..?" she said.

He swallowed. "So?"

"You said one kiss."

"I did."

"I want my dossier."

He smiled and reached into his jacket pocket. "Account paid in full. Here you go."

She took the slim envelope from him and started to immediately open it.

"You don't want to take that elsewhere?" He was aware of the nerves that had suddenly entered his voice at the thought of her reading the information in the envelope in full view of everyone else in the room.

She shook her head. "If the intelligence is as valuable as you say, I want to read it now."

Knowing he couldn't stop her, he instead busied his hands with his glass, drinking the last of his whisky and reassuring himself with the thought that even if someone was watching her open the envelope, they would have no idea of what was inside.

She pulled out a slim card from the envelope and opened it up to read.

He watched her face as she read the lines he had written inside the card; what he had promised would be confirmation of valuable things. He hoped that they were confirmation. He hoped that she found them valuable. From the look on her face, he thought that she agreed.

She blinked rapidly, eyes lingering on the handwritten lines for a few moments after she had finished reading. Then she closed the slim card and ran her hand over the front, tracing the smooth finish. "This is…" she started, pausing to swallow heavily. She lifted her head to look at him again and her blue eyes were shimmering in the light of the bar. "How set are you on eating at this restaurant tonight?"

The abrupt change of topic following their playfully cryptic exchange threw him and it took him a second to answer her. "Not set at all."

"Good." She held up the card to him, abandoning her cool, cryptic persona in favour of smiling at him softly, almost a little shyly – even as her intent was written clear across her face. "This is absolutely beautiful. Thank you. Now take me home, Henry."

A smile blooming over his face, he slid off the barstool and closed the small gap between them, his hands finding his wife's hips to pull her forwards off her own stool and into his chest. "Gladly, babe." He paused for a brief kiss before turning to whisper in her ear. "Happy Birthday, Elizabeth. You ready to go?"

She shivered at the loaded question, her hand smoothing over the lapel of his jacket as she took a half-step back towards the door, the birthday card that told her of his love still clutched protectively in her other hand. "Absolutely. I think we need to continue this exchange of intelligence somewhere a little more private, don't you?"

It seemed she wanted to continue their little faux clandestine meeting once they were back home. That was more than okay with him; he had been enjoying the pretend scenario, too, in fact had been the one to jokingly initiate it with the text he had sent her earlier that day. _Vital intelligence meet tonight, 7pm. Eyes only, birthday girl._ She had responded simply: _Meet agreed, see you later._

He smiled his agreement. "Strictly off books?" he said, continuing the game.

Elizabeth glanced down at the card in her hand, smile still tugging at her lips. "Oh, I don't know. I've always been a fan of the written record." She tilted into him, hugging him in the middle of the restaurant to provide cover as she stretched up on her heels to whisper in his ear, "But I agree. I think this thing might be too hot for paper."

"Mm, strictly confidential."

"A matter of trust."

"Away from prying eyes."

"Let's go."

Leaving a couple of notes on the bar to cover the bill for their drinks, they left the restaurant hand in hand, flanked by Elizabeth's security.

It might only have been a light-hearted game they were playing on her birthday, but Henry for one couldn't wait to continue their rendezvous.

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Poss TBC with smut in chapter 2 if people are interested..?


	2. Chapter 2

Hello! Thank you for all the lovely comments on the previous chapter of this weird fic, I'm so glad people enjoyed it. And now here is some vaguely spy-related filth in honour of Adi's birthday :D Happy birthday chick, hope you like it! x

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 **Chapter Two**

The bedroom was dark, illuminated only in shadows cast by the light that spilled from the bathroom beyond. It felt secretive, clandestine. An appropriate space for an illicit rendezvous.

"You know, we really shouldn't be meeting like this," Elizabeth said, slipping into the act as she sauntered slowly across to the window and hooked the edge of the curtain with one finger, peeking out as though checking the street to see if they had been followed.

There was a pause before Henry's answer. "It's worth the risk." His voice was already gravelly, already aroused.

And wasn't a little light-hearted role play delicious? Such a good birthday treat.

She stayed at the window until she heard him move behind her, his footsteps heavy in the quiet of the room. His hands found her hips and his body pressed against the length of hers, his chest tight to her back. She could feel him already half-hard as his hips brushed against her and she pressed back into him, eliciting a hitch in his breathing at the added pressure.

She smiled into the dim room and slid her hands over his where they rested firmly against her hips. "I do love a little intelligence gathering," she said, shifting against him and feeling the pull of desire inside her, setting her nerve endings tingling. "It's all about the senses. All of them." Her head tipped back to rest against his shoulder, her hair spilling back down his chest. "Even when I can't see you, there's still so much that I can use. So much to learn about you." She released one hand from his to draw it back to run lightly down his side, making him shiver. "About your reactions."

Hands tightened on her hips and he did not sound unaffected when he spoke. "That may be true. But in this scenario it would seem that I have the advantage standing behind you." He lowered his head to whisper into her ear. "Because I can see you."

She shivered involuntarily, leaning into his touch when he dipped to kiss her throat, his lips hot on her skin and his tongue against her pulse point making her crave more. Sure, she could let him think for a little while that the advantage was his. There was no harm in that. It was classic tradecraft; lull the other party into a sense of security and/or superiority. And then strike.

It was also proving to be rather pleasurable to let him think he had the upper hand. Henry's hands moved up from her hips to span her waist and then her ribs, his fingers slotting into the grooves of her ribcage and rumpling the fabric of her dress. No doubt he'd be able to feel the thump of her heart against his palms as her body reacted to the encompassing heat of his hands. His lips kept working at her throat, sucking skin and then nipping lightly.

"Something I've learned," he said, the rush of air from his mouth washing over her neck. "Some intelligence I've gathered." He flexed his fingers against her ribs, slightly tightening his grip. "You _like_ this."

She said nothing, simply inclining her head in a way that _may_ have been acknowledgement – or may have just been giving him better access to the base of her throat, where his teeth scraped the skin before he followed it up with another kiss.

Next he kissed her mouth, her head sliding along his collarbone to rest against the ball of his shoulder as his tongue plunged into her mouth, one of his hands leaving her body to cradle her skull and hold her steady. His other arm banded across her, wrapping across her torso just beneath her breasts like a comforting vice. Elizabeth felt the urge just to melt into him, to let herself go completely and switch off her brain for a while.

But that wasn't what spies did. She thought she should keep her wits about her. She needed to keep some semblance of awareness in this make-believe interaction with a friendly yet not entirely knowable spy. No doubt that was his game plan, too.

Didn't mean she couldn't thoroughly enjoy herself.

She tried to twist in his grip with the intention of sliding her arms around his back and up under his shirt to stroke his skin and make him moan, but his arm around her held her steady, keeping her in place. More intelligence gathered: he wanted to make the most of his advantage. He hummed in satisfaction when she relaxed back against his chest. More intelligence: he thought she was submitting to him.

A reasonable assumption for him to make. She decided to bide her time a little more, give him a little more rope with which to hang himself.

The hand that had been supporting the back of her head and holding her mouth to his slid down her neck, his fingertips trailing through the fine hairs at the nape of her neck to make her shiver. Then he fumbled to find the zip at the back of her dress, holding his body slightly away from hers so that he could slide it all the way down to the base of her spine. He released his grip around her ribcage so he could use both hands to tug the dress down her arms and off until it pooled at her feet.

Cool air hit her skin, goosebumps breaking out across her stomach as Henry's fingers moved softly across bare skin for a moment. Then he moved his hands back to unclasp her bra and tug her underwear down her thighs until both garments joined her dress on the floor.

She felt a thrill dart through her at the feel of his solid, clothed body against the bare skin of her back and the cotton of his shirt against her ribs as he wrapped his arm tightly around her once more. She shifted her hips and felt the hardness of him against her, heard the gasp he couldn't hold back as she brushed against him, reminding him that the advantage he held by being able to see her in front of him was only an illusion – and barely an advantage in the first place in the darkness of the room. "You might think you have the upper hand," she said, careful to keep her voice steady, "but don't forget which of us is wearing stilettos." No need to point out that those things could be used as a weapon. She'd seen him notice them earlier when she had joined him in the bar.

"A threat, my dear?" he murmured as his lips skimmed her cheek.

"A reminder." She couldn't keep the smile out of her voice.

He smiled against her cheek. "Duly noted."

Threat noted and, it seemed, ignored as he brought both hands up to cup her breasts, his arms tight around her in contrast to the soft stroke of his thumbs over her nipples and the kisses he was pressing to her face. She moaned, feeling her stomach tighten at the sensations, aware of pressure deep within the core of her that was aching to build to a release. She could feel wetness gathering between her legs but Henry seemed in no hurry to do anything about it and with his arms trapping hers to her sides, she couldn't do anything about it, either.

She shifted her stance to try to get some friction but was prevented by Henry shuffling her a half-step forward until her knees hit the window seat in front of her, limiting her range of movement. He pinched her nipples between thumbs and fingers, making her moan, the sound loud in the quiet bedroom.

All the best acts had plenty of truth in them.

"Please," she said.

His arms flexed against her. "Please what?"

"Touch me."

"I'm touching you."

" _Properly._ "

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through her, infuriating and arousing at the same time. "I already gave you the dossier," he said. "And now you want more from me?"

She snorted. "I paid you for the dossier." And oh, how worth it for those handwritten lines he had given her. It was an effort to keep up the act of indignation when she thought of the sweet words Henry had written in her birthday card… sorry, the _dossier_.

One hand trailed down her body to her thigh. He slid his palm over the top of her leg, encouraging her to widen her stance a little. "But you doubted its value."

"So, what? You're making me pay for being sceptical of your motives?"

His hand slid from her thigh to rest low on her abdomen, the heat from his palm spreading through her body. "I'm… proving the truth of the contents of the dossier."

That was all she needed to give herself over to letting her husband put his words into practice. "Go on," she said quietly.

He said nothing else, but he hummed in the back of his throat and pressed a lingering, intimate kiss to the side of her head as he drew his hands over her body, warming her skin and stoking the lust and tension ever higher within her. He kept her within the circle of his arms, the cotton of his shirt rough against her back and sides where he surrounded her, the feel of him clothed behind her while she stood naked except for her shoes sending little thrills of arousal sparking through her veins.

But she also wanted to feel him properly, and was just about to reach back with the aim of trying to relieve him of his trousers when one of his hands slipped between her legs and two fingers rubbed slowly over her tender flesh. She moaned at the feel of him touching her and could tell from the way his fingers slid easily over her that she was very wet.

Henry's mouth dropped to her throat, pressing hot kisses along the column of her neck as his other hand pinched her nipple gently. "Tell me," he whispered against her skin.

"Tell you what?"

Another brush of his fingers, close to her clit but not quite touching. "Your secrets," he said.

So he was still playing, was he? Spies flirting with boundaries and exchanging information. "I think… think you know them," she replied, struggling to keep her voice steady as Henry's nail dug ever so slightly into her nipple, the slight bite simultaneously helping her focus and making her lose her mind.

A moment later he soothed her with a tender brush of his thumb. "A woman such as yourself?" he purred. "With the connections you have, the knowledge… I'm sure there are things you haven't told me." The hand between her legs stilled. "I want to know it all."

She forced herself not to shout in frustration, instead twisting her neck so she could stretch up in the circle of his arms to press a wet kiss to his check. "You already do," she said, her mouth close to his ear. "You know all of me."

It made him shiver, as she had known it would. His fingers tapped lightly against her swollen centre, making her arch her back as she sought out more contact. "Talk to me," he insisted. One finger touched her clit briefly but then was gone. "Tell me how it feels."

That was a secret she could spill safely. "Good," she said. "It feels good." She squirmed in his arms, eager for him to touch her again – _properly_ this time. It was damn unfair to tease a woman so much on her birthday, even if they were playing a little ridiculous game at the same time.

He rewarded her with his fingers sliding confidently through wet heat. "More," he said.

"You… surrounding me like this…" She rolled her shoulders back, feeling the tug of his arm around her waist and the feeling of his shirt against her arms as he held them close to her body.

"It's good?" he asked, and he sounded like he was actually checking.

She nodded. "So good. This is so hot." She moaned as he dipped two fingers just inside her. "More."

"You want more?"

"Make me come," she demanded. She thought if she didn't get to come in the next two minutes she might have to finish the job herself – and that would be a waste of a properly good, sexy evening of build-up. His fingers slid into her fully, the angle stretching her slightly, the pressure and the slight burn making her feel boneless.

Henry's teeth nipped her shoulder. "The intelligence is coming thick and fast now. That's it, baby. Tell me how it feels."

She gasped as his fingers moved inside her. "Full. It feels full. Good. God."

A tongue flickered over the shell of her ear. "Think it could be better?"

She didn't have time to consider an answer to the question before Henry added a third finger inside her, easing in carefully and then curling his hand slightly to hit her sweet spot with every stroke of his fingers. And then shouldn't even form words for a minute as she felt as though she might burst, so turned on from their earlier interaction in the bar and the subsequent heated stare-filled car ride home and everything that had happened since they entered the bedroom that coherent thought wouldn't quite come to her. She just knew that it felt pretty damn amazing as Henry moved his fingers within her and she leant back against him and felt him rock hard against the small of her back, even through his layers of clothing, and as his other hand moved over her breasts, his arm banding tight around her to keep her upright and keep her where he wanted her, and she needed just a little more to come, just a little bit more to push her over the edge and she thought she was going to go insane any moment if she didn't –

Her orgasm hit suddenly, the pressure and the pleasure peaking within her and then boiling over, her body going rigid in Henry's arms as it washed through her. She could feel her body clenching on the fingers he had inside her, her hips bucking involuntarily as the pleasure rippled out from her centre. She gasped in a breath, too overwhelmed by the sensations to even cry out, and it was long moments later when she finally felt her body start to calm and relax enough for Henry to withdraw his hand and wrap both arms around her from behind.

"That do you for secrets?" she mumbled after she had caught her breath.

His reply was breathy and the arousal was thick in his voice as he said, "I think that's even more than I was hoping for." He squeezed her gently. "But I'm feeling greedy tonight."

"Huh?" She was sure if she just had a minute, she'd be able to catch up with his thought process but right now she needed it spelling out for her.

He pressed his hips into hers and then stepped around her, steadying her so she could step back, clear of the pool of clothing at her feet. His hands smoothed over the skin of her back. "I want to see your face this time."

She took a couple of seconds to collect herself before she replied. "That's fitting." She raised her hands to start unbuttoning his dress shirt. "Because I want to see all of you this time."

Henry dipped his head to kiss her briefly. "Get on the bed and you will."

Holding his gaze, she took the couple of steps back to reach the bed, sitting on the edge and then lying back against the pillows, propping herself up so she could watch her husband. Her eyes had adjusted to the dim light of the room and she watched with a smile on her face as he took off his shirt and then toed off his shoes and slid down his dress pants.

Elizabeth could still feel little aftershocks of pleasure darting through her veins and she trailed her fingers over her abdomen to help keep the feeling going – not exactly a difficult task as she watched Henry undress in front of her, bathed in shadows and dim light. He pushed down his boxers and then straightened up, stepping towards her with a soft smile on his face, all traces of their little game gone for now as he looked at her with his gaze full of love.

She held out her hand to him and he came to join her on the bed, lowering himself over her and kissing her deeply. His hands skated her sides, careful to avoid too much pressure after the intensity of her previous orgasm. She could feel him throbbing and hard against her abdomen and marvelled that he hadn't cracked sooner; she'd known he was turned on from the minute she saw him at the bar earlier in the evening.

Seemed her husband was into delayed gratification tonight.

It was a heady feeling knowing that he wanted her so much – and that he loved her so much, as his sweet birthday card had affirmed for her – and so she wasted no more time in reaching between them to wrap her hand carefully around his erection and guide him inside her.

He pushed in easily, groaning a sigh of relief of the feel of her hot and wet and snug around him. Elizabeth's groan matched his as he stretched still-fluttering muscles and her fingers brushed against her clit as she withdrew her hand so she could wrap it around Henry's back. He rested his forehead against hers, his eyes wide open as he looked down at her face and started to move inside her, his movements starting off slow and purposeful but quickly gaining in speed and desperation.

Another intelligence find: Henry was hanging by a thread and it seemed that he might be about to snap.

Well. That was something she could definitely help with.

Moving her hands between them, Elizabeth pushed against Henry's chest. "Over. Turn over."

He took a moment to comply, his pupils blown wide and dark as he chased after a release he'd been anticipating all evening. And who had the advantage now?

Elizabeth smiled at her husband as he rolled onto his back, his hands sliding under her shoulders to make sure he took her with him, his knees coming up to support her as she landed on top of him and sat up. She squeezed her muscles around him and his eyes slammed shut for a moment before he opened them again, apparently not willing to take his eyes off her. She enjoyed the sight of him beneath her after being denied the pleasure while he stood behind her next to the window.

"Let go, Henry," she said as she started to move over him, slowly at first while she found her rhythm and then faster. She braced her hands against the mattress to provide her with leverage, her legs clamped against Henry's sides as she moved. His hands roamed her body, fingers tugging at her still-sensitive nipples and then sliding down to dig his fingers into her hips and help her move against him, his hips thrusting up hard into hers with each downward stroke. "Tell me," she said, repeating his earlier words back to him and feeling the pressure start to build within her once more.

He groaned. "You feel amazing," he gasped. "You're amazing." One hand came up to cup her face, tangling in her hair as he started to lose control of his movement. "I love you, Elizabeth. I – oh, you feel so good, babe."

The sight of him coming undone beneath her while he spoke so truthfully was enough to bring a tear to her eye and to spur her on, and she shifted so she could smooth one hand over his chest, tugging lightly at the short hairs there in the way she knew always got him when he was caught up in the heat of the moment.

He didn't disappoint, bucking up hard into her as he came loudly, shouting her name and almost dislodging her position above him as his body trembled hard with the force of his orgasm. Elizabeth slid her hand down her body to rub her own clit as she watched him, the look on his face almost enough to send her over the edge – almost.

Fingers fumbled next to hers and Henry caught her gaze as he knocked her hand out of the way to finish her off himself, apparently just enough presence of mind left to make sure she came again. Her orgasm this time was quick but intense and she flopped down on Henry's chest as he lay spent and breathing heavily beneath her.

"Well, that was one hell of an intelligence sharing meeting," Henry said a couple of minutes later.

Elizabeth stirred against him, looking up at him from her place sprawled on his chest. "You know if this was a real spy seduction arrangement, I'd wait until you were asleep and then I'd rob you blind for intelligence just before I left."

"Who says I'd fall asleep first?" he questioned, the challenge somewhat betrayed by the drowsiness that was evident in his tone.

Elizabeth smiled. "Okay, so we'd both just stay awake all night waiting for the other to give in."

"It'd be a story for the ages."

"I'll email John Le Carre in the morning, see if he's interested."

Henry chuckled. "I think it's better this way, babe. Spies in those stories always end up dead."

She propped her chin on his chest to see him better and smoothed her hands over his face, stroking his cheeks in a gesture of affection. "Yeah," she agreed. "It's much better this way."

"S'fun though," Henry said.

"What, clandestine meetings in bars and illicit rendezvous in dark rooms and dossiers filled with secrets?"

"Yeah."

"We could have another clandestine meeting tomorrow… say around one o'clock for lunch on the bench in the park?"

Henry tightened his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. "I'll be there." He shifted drowsily beneath her.

Elizabeth could feel sleep starting to pull her down, too, and figured that maybe if they really were rival spies they wouldn't both stay awake all night, after all. Before she could give in to sleep, she tipped her head and pressed a kiss to Henry's chest just above his heart. "Thank you for the dossier," she whispered. "You were right. I found its contents to be of considerable value… the most value."

Her reply was the slight tightening of Henry's arms around her as he released a breath and drifted peacefully into sleep.

A minute later, Elizabeth fell asleep wrapped up in the arms of her perfect spy, her words almost an unintelligible mumble, "Next time the dossier's on me."


End file.
